


oh baby, you're a classic

by montecarlos



Category: Motorsport RPF, WEC RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Choking, Gangbang, M/M, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9621839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: “You’re going to enjoy working for Audi, Loïc,” Tom announces, the smile still on his lips.And Loïc does to an extent.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piratemoggy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratemoggy/gifts).



> Big thanks to Emma and Ale for giving this a run through and to Lewis for cheerleading. This isn't a nice fic by a long shot, just fair warning. Title from Tiffany Blews by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> This is for my incredible wife, Nino, without whose support and love I could not have done without the past few weeks. Happy birthday princess, I hope you enjoy this mess <3.

The Dane had said nothing to him, had merely unzipped his overalls - the Nomex crinkling and the metal teeth of the zip were the only sounds that filled the air as Tom had looked at him expectedly.    
  
“You want a drive boy?” He asks slowly, the words brushing past his lips as he surveys Loïc still kneeling on the floor by his feet. “I am sure you expected some sort of driving test in order to prove your worth,”   
  
“I was expecting that, yes,” Loïc mutters quietly, still staring into Tom’s eyes - they look nothing like the ones he sees in the paddock, the ones that crinkle around the edges as he smiles.    
  
“We only have one test here,” Tom says softly as he pulls his dick out of his open overalls. “Lets see if you pass Loïc,”    
  
Loïc says nothing else as he leans forward, bracing his hands on Tom’s racesuit covered knees, his mouth slowly closing over Tom’s half-hard dick. Loïc isn’t used to sucking dick - he’s only ever fucked girls before, but he’s not frightened of Tom. He can smell the older man’s cologne drifting through his nostrils, mixed in with the familiar scent of sweat hanging off his overalls - he’s sloppy on his first attempt, struggling to keep the salty pre-come rolling down the side of Tom’s dick on the back of his mouth. Tom groans out in satisfaction at the sensation - Loïc’s warm mouth encircling the base of his dick, his tongue lapping over the hardened shaft. Loïc squeaks against Tom’s dick as the Dane’s hands fold into his dark hair and begin to tug on the strands.    
  
The room is soon filled with Tom’s gasps as Loïc tries desperately to impress him - his tongue swiping slowly over the Dane’s shaft, moving down slowly to press against the base. He flicks his tongue lightly, dipping it slowly over the hardened cock of the Dane, the man who he has to impress. He’s heard stories in the paddock before - the infamous one of André Lotterer on his knees in front of Tom is one that is told again and again - but he never thought that he would be in this situation when he got the call. He knew that Tom Kristensen had lots of influence over Audi but when they said he was in charge of driver development, this was the last thing that came to mind. But none of that matters now. Tom’s fingernails scrape against his scalp, yanking on his hair forcing Loïc’s teeth to accidentally graze over the Dane’s shaft. He suddenly feels himself ripped away from Tom’s dick - the older man’s eyes are dark, darker than he remembers - and they’re staring right at Loïc.    
  
“You’ve got some nerve, boy,” Tom grounds out, smile curving over his lips. Loïc thinks immediately of Tom’s persona to the press, to the outside world of WEC - they know him as dependable Mr Le Mans - but there’s danger in his expression. “All the other boys managed to make me come,”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Loïc begins, his teeth worrying his lip slowly. He’s blown it, quite literally. “I just, it’s my first time doing anything like that-”  
  
Tom’s grin seems to grow at Loïc’s words. “You’ve never done anything like that before?”   
  
Loïc worries his lip and nods once. “Never. I’ve only ever slept with girls,”   
  
Tom’s eyes seem to dance at Loïc’s words. “Interesting. You may leave now, Loïc,” He says, waving his hand as though to dismiss the young Frenchman.    
  
“Aren’t you going to tell me if I’ve got the drive or not?” Loïc asks, regretting the words the second they leave his mouth.    
  
Tom’s smirk gets larger as he leans forward, his large hand rubbing gently over Loïc’s smooth cheek. “You are so much like André, but he gave in...just as you will,”   
  
Loïc exhales slowly as he comes to the realisation that this is Tom’s way of saying that he has the job. He wants to smile, but something tells him that he won’t be what was expecting - all the photos he’s seen before of Tom with the other drivers suddenly become clear. Tom smiles widely as though he can see the wheels working overtime in Loïc’s head.    
  
“You’re going to enjoy working for Audi, Loïc,” Tom announces, the smile still on his lips.    
  


* * *

  
  
And Loïc does to an extent - he’s left alone for the first few weeks, left to adjust to life as an Audi factory driver - he does the tour, he has his seat fitting and tries on his new racing overalls ready for his first ever race. He becomes complacent, begins to wonder if it was all just a dream, if he really sucked Tom Kristensen’s dick to get into Audi, if everyone who drives for Audi had to suck his dick to get here. He can’t see Allan doing it - the man has been at Audi as long as Tom has - but he wonders about his fellow drivers. He tries to imagine Marcel and Benoit on their knees in front of Tom, tries to imagine André with his overalls around his ankles smirking victoriously.   
  
But it all changes the night after the race in the States when Tom invites him around to his hotel room to discuss everything. Tom doesn’t seem to be in the mood for talking when Loïc finally turns up at his penthouse suite.    
  
“Take off your clothes, I want to see your body,” He commands, his voice low and calm. “And then lie down on the bed,”   
  
Loïc worries his lip but he does as he is asked - slowly shedding the layers of his clothing and trying not to gaze up into the eyes of the Dane. His shirt slowly slides away to the floor - revealing his pale skin to Tom whose eyes drink it in.    
  
“You are truly beautiful, Loïc,” Tom murmurs, his voice thick and full of longing, his eyes unwavering as he watches the Frenchman slip out of his slightly baggy jeans. They pool around his ankles as he stands before Tom. “Truly beautiful,” Tom repeats, his dark eyes fixed on the thin boxer shorts that cling to Loïc’s legs. “Remove them please,”   
  
Loïc does as he is asked, fingertips slowly sliding over the thin black material, slowly slipping the cotton from his legs. Tom’s eyes remain on him and he feels the colour flood his cheeks as his half-hard cock is revealed to the older Dane. Tom doesn’t say anything, his eyes still fixed on Loïc’s body, drinking in the form before him. He steps forward cautiously, as he leans in to slowly press Loïc onto the bed behind him. Loïc feels himself fall into soft sheets that seem to stick to his skin for a moment before Tom suddenly joins him, his hands moving slowly over the curves of Loïc’s skin, pausing to cup at his ass.    
  
Loïc tries to slow his breathing down, to reason with the fact that he is in bed with Tom Kristensen - with the man who he’s sort of sucked the dick of but failed miserably in everything else. Tom pauses for a moment, his blue eyes fix on Loïc. “Relax,” He murmurs, his other hand moving up to curve over Loïc’s face once more. “You’re all wound up, just relax,”    
  
“Sorry,” Loïc’s dry mouth parts around the words before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry, I just-”   
  
“You made me proud today,” Tom says quietly, his thumb rubbing circles over Loïc’s cheek. “To get to second from your position is incredible-”   
  
“I didn’t do it on my own-” Loïc begins only to be silenced by Tom’s finger pressing against his lips.    
  
“Loïc, such fine work must be rewarded,” Tom whispers, the smile brushing over his lips as the hand that has been stroking over Loïc’s ass moves slowly to encircle his hole. Tom is slow and steady in his movements, the tip of his finger gently swirling around Loïc’s hole - fingertip touches, ever so slight - Loïc can’t help the groan that pushes itself from his lips. Tom smirks against him as his finger slowly circles the puckered hole, enjoying the gasp that pushes from between the Frenchman’s lips.    
  
“You’re such a good boy,” Tom murmurs as Loïc feels his body arch up involuntarily - as Tom’s finger swipes over his asshole slowly, his lips brushing against the curve of Loïc’s shoulder. Loïc gasps out at the sensation, Tom’s lips are warm against his own, his finger pausing to dip into the waiting hole of Loïc’s ass. Loïc jumps at the slight intrusion - it feels strange, to have the tip of Tom’s finger brushing against the inside of his ass.    
  
“Relax, you feel so good,” Tom mutters against his warm skin, the ghost of his lips seeming to burn against him. His finger curves up inside Loïc who cries out, unable to keep the scream from brushing past his lips. Tom’s finger moves around slowly, stretching out Loïc. “God, you’re so tight,”

Loïc mewls at the sensation, his lips parting as his legs follow, eager for Tom to touch more of his body. He feels the smirk that brushes over Tom’s lips at the sounds that push from his tongue. “Such a good boy,” Tom purrs, his other hand steadying Loïc’s hip, the pad of his thumb stroking over the soft unmarked skin. Tom is unlocking things inside him that he never knew he had, warmth curves over his thighs as he throws his head back.   
  
“Oh god, Tom,” Loïc mutters under his breath, feeling the sinews in his neck arch outwards, as Tom’s fingers presses in further - crooking against Loïc’s ass and drawing another sigh from the Frenchman as another wave of warmth flutters through his inner thighs.    
  
“You’re so tight, almost like a fucking virgin, Loïc,” Tom murmurs, swirling his finger around in Loïc’s ass, drawing another scream from the younger man, his other hand moving up to explore the plains of Loïc’s body. Loïc gasps out as he feels Tom’s cold fingers tweak at his nipple, playing with the soft pink nub. He hisses, arching away from Tom, as the older man presses light kisses to the back of his neck. Tom rubs harder against his nipple, his finger pressing further into Loïc’s asshole. Loïc groans at the feeling, at the warmth brushing over his skin as suddenly, he feels pressure at his asshole as Tom adds another finger. The pain gives way to pleasure - as Tom’s fingers slowly stretch him out as he feels another whine push from his lips. He never expected it to feel this way.    
  
“Such a good boy, tell me how it feels,” Tom says slowly, his fingers scissoring Loïc slowly, opening him up. Loïc can do nothing but squirm in pleasure, Tom’s hands slowly dancing over his pale skin, mapping over every inch of his body. However, Tom doesn’t add another finger. He slides out the two that were inside Loïc, making the Frenchman cry out at the loss. Tom smiles for a moment, his lips ghosting against Loïc’s lightly freckled shoulder.    
  
“You’ve been such a good boy,” Tom says quietly and Loïc prepares himself. He knows that it would happen eventually but there’s a sense of trepidation in the knot of his spine - he’s never done this before, never had someone fuck him before. He worries his lip and tries not to tense up - only to find that it doesn’t come - Tom’s hand folds over his hipbone as he pushes something into Loïc’s ass. It’s not soft or warm, but hard and slightly cold from the lube. Loïc immediately recognises it as some sort of toy and is about to voice his displeasure when Tom squeezes his hipbone.    
  
“You’re not ready for my cock yet, boy,” Tom mutters, the tip of the toy circling the hole of Loïc’s ass, pushing in and out slowly. Loïc arches his back slowly, trying not to feel disappointed that it’s not Tom’s cock pressing inside him. “But I don’t know how loyal you are yet,” Tom continues, slowly pushing the toy up inside Loïc slowly, carefully, smiling at the groans that brush from his lips. “So I’m plugging you,” He continues, his other hand moving down to stroke over Loïc’s ass. “Make sure that nobody takes my property,” He finishes, slapping Loïc on the ass again.    
  
Loïc whimpers as Tom pushes the plug in further, the smooth sides brushing up against the inside of his ass. It feels strange but there’s a curve of warmth that brushes over his thighs at the sensation of being filled. Tom smiles as Loïc gasps out - the plug feels enormous inside him, the lube slicking against his insides. Loïc pushes down on the plug harder, the warmth curving over him as he’s filled, pushing it deeper.    
  
“That’s my boy,” Tom murmurs, his hand moving to stroke gently over Loïc’s ass tenderly.  “It’s the smallest one I have, but you’ve taken it beautifully,” He watches transfixed as Loïc adjusts to the pressure inside his ass, as he clenches his hole around the plug slowly. He gasps out as the plug slowly slides all the way in, Tom brushing a kiss to his shoulder when he’s plugged.    
  
“Keep this in until I say so,” Tom murmurs, slapping Loïc’s ass lightly. He leans in, the curve of his breath dancing against Loïc’s neck. “Win the next race and I’ll fuck you for real,”   
  


* * *

  
  
Loïc watches Tom from across the garage - the weather is wonderful in Spa for once, the sun beating down in the pit lane, illuminating the puddles and making them shimmer against the dark asphalt. Loïc watches the older man smile at something that André said, slapping him gently on the shoulder.    
  
“You know you are not the only one,” A voice pipes up, snapping Loïc out of his daydream. Lucas di Grassi stands at the side of Loïc with his Audi overalls pulled low over his waist, his fireproofs clinging to his muscular chest like a second skin.    
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Loïc says quietly. He barely knows Lucas - he’s been brought in for this race because he needs the experience for Le Mans apparently - Loïc knows who was responsible for choosing Lucas. He’s ridiculously attractive - what with his caramel skin, dark eyes and soft ebony hair - and usually that’s Loïc’s thing. But there’s something that unnerves Loïc about the Brazilian. He knows that Tom is interested in him - he’s seen the Dane’s glances over to Lucas’s toned chest - and he hates it.    
  
“That’s cute,” Lucas says, grinning widely. “But you’ll never have him fully, he isn’t the sort of man who would give himself up to one person,”    
  
“What would you know about anything? You barely know him,” Loïc mutters, still staring at Tom.    
  
“I know more than you think,” Lucas says. “Just be careful, Loïc. Don’t fall in love with him,”   
  
Loïc is silent.    
  


* * *

  
  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tom snarls, his face is reddened with anger as his dark eyes settle on Loïc. “What’s going on?”   
  
“I...I’m sorry,” Loïc whispers, looking down at his shoes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” He pauses as Tom’s warm hand cups his cheek, gently pushing his face up to meet the older man’s.    
  
“What’s going on?” Tom says again, his voice a little softer this time. “Why aren’t you winning that race? How can I fuck you if you don’t do as I ask?”   
  
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Loïc says, worrying his lip. But Tom doesn’t respond to his words, he wordlessly takes hold of Loïc’s wrist and slams him up against the wall of tyres that are in the back of the garage. Allan and the other drivers stop talking and look over at the sound of the noise. “I told you to win the next race, Loïc,” Tom says, smiling dangerously. “And you didn’t, did you?”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Loïc repeats but Tom pulls down on the zip of his Audi overalls, the material crinkles as he pushes them down away from Loïc’s skin. The Frenchman shivers as the slightly cool air brushes over his fireproofs underneath, as Tom pulls the overalls all the way down. Loïc gasps as the cheeks of his ass are exposed to the air, the plug still pressing inside him, filling him up. Tom had placed it there earlier, his fingers brushing gently over the base as he’d purred for Loïc to do him proud. However, there’s no tenderness in Tom’s touch now. He pulls the plug from Loïc’s ass quickly, making him groan at the sensation of emptiness that floods through him. Usually, Tom works the plug out slowly, his fingers caressing over his soft skin, telling him how good he’s been. But this time, Tom’s fingers brush over his ass, swirling around Loïc’s asshole.    
  
“I can’t fuck you, you know that don’t you?” Tom murmurs. “Usually, I would let André fuck you, but you’re still a virgin,” His fingers stroke gently over Loïc’s ass as he glances over to the other Audi drivers watching intently. “But I can punish you,”   
  
Loïc stays silent as Tom’s fingers move to slowly tease around his ass, ghosting over the puckered hole. He gasps out as Tom slowly presses his finger into the hole, in and out as slowly as he can. Loïc groans at the sensation - the finger feels so small compared to the plug that he’s been nursing for the last six hours. “Tom, Tom, please,” He can’t stop himself from murmuring out and he swears he can see Allan smirk at his pleas.    
  
“Tell me what you want,”   
  
“Please, Tom, please, I need you,” Loïc groans out but Tom’s fingers never get any further inside him, they just brush against the inner side. Loïc tries to push his ass onto Tom’s fingers but Tom moves them back before he can. “Please, Tom,”   
  
“I told you, that I can’t pleasure you when you let me down in this way,” Tom says softly, as he pulls down Loïc over a lone tyre sitting on the floor. Loïc squeaks under his breath as the air leaves his chest - Tom’s hands caress over his ass for a moment. Loïc holds his breath, wonders if Tom is going to finger him in front of everyone again - but the fingers never come. Instead pain blossoms across his ass - as he realises that Tom is hitting him - as though he’s a naughty child.    
  
“You’ve been a bad boy,” Tom mutters, marvelling at the way the pale skin reddens with the first initial slaps. “Such a bad boy, I’m so disappointed,” He growls as Loïc groans at the sting brushing over his skin. He tries not to glance up at the other drivers - Allan’s eyes are fixed on him, on his reddening face - whilst Marcel merely looks interested. André as always - is nowhere to be seen, presumably getting fucked by Benoit in the back somewhere.    
  
“I should let one of the others have you, Loïc,” Tom hisses, his blow heavier this time as he spits through his teeth. “I should let one of the others have your ass, let André shove his dick inside you, let Allan finger you and not let you come,” He mutters as Loïc whimpers. “But you’re  _ mine _ , I will have you first,”   
  
“Please,” Loïc begs, his skin stinging with every slap that Tom delivers. It hurts - and he knows that his skin will be reddening at the contact - his dick perks up at the thought. He can’t help it - can’t help the warmth that runs through his lower abdomen as Tom hits his ass, as he whispers about who else he could give Loïc to.    
  
“What do you want Loïc?” Tom hisses. His hand stills for a moment, caressing the soft, reddened skin of Loïc’s ass. “Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to win Le Mans for me?”   
  
Loïc is silent for a moment, worrying at his lip but soon the silence is pushed away as Tom’s hand dips lower and he begins lazily fingering at Loïc’s asshole to stretch him out. Loïc pants at the sensation - it feels so good, Tom always knew exactly what to do to him - the tips of his fingers just brushing over the pucker of his asshole, pressing inside, slowly, gently -    
  
“Oh fuck,”  Loïc groans out, unable to stop himself as Tom’s fingers dip further, as his cock swells thinking about the older man’s dick filling him, as he thinks about Tom’s come flooding his insides. Tom’s fingers push deeper, pressing gently against his prostate. Loïc stiffens at the sensation as everything seems to warm. Prompted by Loïc’s breathly moans, Tom slowly presses his finger back and forth, teasing over Loïc’s prostate, smiling at how the Frenchman writhes against his lap. Tom’s fingers dip further and further, brushing against the sensitive area again and again. He smirks as he feels Loïc’s swollen cock brushing against his leg. “Don’t you dare come,” He hisses, picking up the pace, his fingers slowly pushing in and out of Loïc’s ass. The younger man’s ass slowly rises into the air and Tom smirks at the sight before him - Loïc begging him, panting as Tom’s fingers press in further, open him up.    
  
“You’re not allowed to come,” Tom growls out, his fingers dipping in and out of Loïc’s ass, his other hand moving to cup at the pale cheeks. “I’ll tell you when you can come,” He hisses.    
  
“Fuck, Tom, please, please-”   
  
“I’ll let you come when you win me a race, Duval,” Tom growls out, his finger rubbing over the sweet spot, Loïc groans out at how good Tom’s fingers feel, the warmth blossoming over his skin as he feels himself getting closer and closer.    
  
“Please,” Loïc begs. “Please let me come,”   
  
Tom continues to open him up, to brush the tips of his fingers gently over Loïc’s prostate, making the young Frenchman cry out. Allan smirks from his position across the garage as Loïc closes his eyes, unable to stop the pleasure from flooding through his body. He can’t stop himself as the warmth beds down in his lower thighs and the familiar sensation of release fills him. The sticky hot semen coats Tom’s overall-covered leg.   
  


* * *

  
  
Loïc curses heavily under his breath as he staggers out of the car and Tom immediately slides himself in, slapping Loïc on his ass as he disappears behind the glass of the car they share. He can barely think of anything but their car, about how he’s done his job. Allan slaps him on the shoulder and he settles down into his seat, trying not to bite his fingernails. The worry tugs on his chest as he carefully watches the Audi of his teammate run over the track. Tom has done this numerous times before - eight times to be exact - so Loïc shouldn’t be too worried.    
  
It turns out that he has nothing to worry about - Tom pushes the Audi around for the final lap, the last few seconds pushing themselves away. Loïc worries his lip as he slowly brings it into parc fermé , throwing his arm up in the air as he screams out into the cooling air.  Loïc feels himself unable to stop and wait for Tom to climb out of the car, he throws himself forward into Tom’s arms. The Dane’s arms curl around his waist as his nose bumps against Loïc’s neck, his fingers brushing into his waist.    
  
“We did it,” He mutters as Allan folds himself around them - whispering congratulations of his own as Tom’s lips press against Loïc’s neck for a moment. His hand moves to gently cup at his ass for a second. “Tonight,” He murmurs against the soft skin of Loïc’s neck. “Tonight, you’ll get your reward,”   
  
Loïc feels his mouth go dry at the mere thought as Tom finally pulls away, his hand moving to curl around his shoulders and pull him near. Loïc finds himself smiling, yelling out at the baying crowds and feeling contented with Tom’s arm pulling him in close. He tries not to think about Tom in that moment, tries to remember what he did to get to this moment - all the hard work he did to get here, to be stood next to the winning car at Le Mans. Tom’s hand seems to squeeze on his shoulder as he takes in the sight before him. The cameras flash, the screams of the crowd, of their names seem to get louder and louder as Loïc feels his biggest smile press over his lips.    
  
“Proud of you,” Tom mutters against his ear, squeezing his shoulder one last time. “Take it all in and enjoy it, enjoy being a champion,”   
  
So Loïc does.    
  


* * *

  
  
Loïc arrives outside Tom’s hotel room later that evening - he’s been hovering around, worrying his lip and wondering if it’s a little forward to knock on the Dane’s door. But he can’t stop thinking about Tom’s whispered promises - he’s been waiting for such a long time for Tom to fuck him. He hopes that it feels as good as Tom’s fingers have. His cock swells at the mere thought of Tom finally fucking him - the key feels like lead against his sweaty palm. Tom had handed him the key earlier with his eyes flashing and Loïc had taken it eagerly - probably too eagerly, he thinks - as the key slowly turns in the lock. He can’t hear anything at first, his eyes slowly adjusting to the low light of the room. He moves slowly through the hallway, towards the slightly ajar door which he knows is probably Tom’s bedroom, only to stop when he hears someone groan.    
  
He stops in his tracks, his hand hovering over the door. He strains his ears to listen - and it happens again, a slow lengthy groan of pleasure rips through the air, only to be followed by creaking bedsprings and the unmistakeable sound of skin slapping against skin.    
  
“Fuck, fuck, Tom,” A deep voice calls out and Loïc feels his eyebrows furrow. He  _ knows _ that voice, he’s heard it before. He knows that he should leave, that he should wait for Tom to call him - after all, he knows that he’s not the only person that Tom has in his life -    
  
But he can’t. He wants to know who Tom is fucking into the sheets. Taking a deep breath, he pushes the door open only to stop in his tracks at the sight of Lucas pinned down into the sheets by a sweaty, naked Tom. Tom’s hand is wrapped around Lucas’s wrist, the other on his hip, his cock mid-thrust into Lucas -    
  
Tom snaps his head to the open door and his eyes widen at the sight of Loïc standing in the doorway with his mouth open in shock.    
  
“Loïc-” He begins but the Frenchman decides that he’s seen enough. He shakes his head as the key drops from his hand and he turns on his heel, running as quickly as he can from the hotel room. He tries not to think about Lucas and Tom wrapped up together - it hurts - it hurts knowing that Tom fucked Lucas before him, that he wasn’t special enough to fuck - and the hurt presses down deep in his chest as his fingers fumble to open his own door. He barely remembers opening it as the tears begin to fall down his cheeks - his thoughts only of naked, sweaty Lucas calling out Tom’s name as he fucks him - he collapses on his bed, sobbing into his pillows.    
  
There’s a knock at his door ten minutes later - he ignores it, it’s probably Tom or Lucas and he doesn’t want to hear their excuses now. He presses his head into the pillow - tries to ignore the sting of tears dancing down his cheeks. He thinks about Lucas’s words, about him falling in love with Tom - he’s not in love with Tom - he knows that he isn’t, he’s probably in love with the idea of Tom, the idea of someone wanting him. Another knock pounds at the door and Loïc ignores it again.    
  
“Loïc,” A familiar voice sounds out against the wood. “Loïc, open the door,”   
  
Out of all the drivers, Loïc wasn’t expecting André to be on the other side, leaning against the wall. He towers over the Frenchman, his dark eyes glancing down on his lithe body, before they focus on his reddened eyes.    
  
“What happened?” He asks, concern suddenly flooding over his face.  
  
“Why don’t you ask Tom and Lucas?” Loïc sneers at the Belgian - he knows he’s being rude and that he shouldn’t take it out on André. He goes to slam the door in André’s face but the Belgian’s foot catches in the doorway, holding the door open.   
  
“Don’t you dare,” Loïc snarls out but André is much stronger than he is and manages to pull the door open again, sliding through it before he closes it again. He grabs hold of Loïc’s wrist before the Frenchman can retreat back into the room. “Let go of me!”   
  
“Stop fighting me, Loïc,” André  says quietly, eyes burning into the Frenchman. “You saw them together, didn’t you?”   
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Loïc hisses, trying to snatch his wrist back. “If Tom wants to fuck that slut, then he can be my guest!”   
  
“Loïc-” André says slowly, his finger rubbing circles on Loïc’s wrist. “Just try calm down, you’re upset over what happened,”   
  
“He promised that he was going to fuck me tonight,” Loïc murmurs. “But he’d rather fuck that slut instead of me,”    
  
“Loïc, you know the rules, Tom isn’t just a one man sort of guy. He doesn’t just fuck one person,”   
  
“But I just- I expected that he’d fuck me before his new Brazilian toy-”    
  
“You know, if you wanted someone to take your virginity-” André murmurs slowly, his fingers still rubbing over Loïc’s wrist. “Or just someone to make you feel better-”   
  
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea-” Loïc begins, only for André to lean forward and capture his lips, his hand folding over Loïc’s wrist pinning it against the wall.    
  
“André-” Loïc says against André’s soft skin but the Belgian’s tongue soon slips over the crease of his plush lips, teasing them slowly open. Loïc knows that he shouldn’t be doing this, but André presses his knee in between Loïc’s thighs, his lips teasing open the Frenchman’s. His other hand moves to gently cup Loïc’s ass, groaning against his lips. Loïc knows that he shouldn’t, knows that he should keep himself for Tom but André makes him feel so good.    
  
“Oh god-” He finds himself whimpering against André’s lips and the Belgian smirks against him, slipping his tongue into Loïc’s mouth. He tastes slightly salty but Loïc finds it difficult to care right in that moment as André’s tongue traces over every inch of his mouth - the images of Lucas and Tom melt away as André’s tongue slides against his own, his hand moving away from Loïc’s ass to push underneath the thin fabric of his jeans - Loïc twists, hissing as André’s hand slides underneath his underwear - his hands curving over Loïc’s half hard cock.    
  
“Someone’s excited,” André murmurs, smirking - his lips nipping against Loïc’s slowly. “You know, he’s had his eye on you for some time-”   
  
“I don’t want to talk about him right now,” Loïc snaps, his lips slamming against André’s. He thinks about Lucas, all sweaty and sated between the sheets as he continues to kiss André. The Belgian moans against his lips as he slowly begins to jerk Loïc off, the pre-come sticking to his fingers as he slowly watches the Frenchman’s head knock against the wall. Loïc’s eyes slide shut, his eyes falling open as he allows André to take care of him. André’s fingers are slightly calloused against the sensitive skin of his dick - but none of that matters to him in that moment - it feels so good.    
  
“Oh god, André,” Loïc finds himself murmuring over and over again, as André’s thumb strokes over the damp tip of his cock. He thrusts his hips forward and André  smirks at him.    
  
“That’s my boy,” André mutters, his fingers stroking Loïc gently into hardness. “You’re so good, I don’t understand why he didn’t want you-”   
  
Loïc doesn’t want to hear about Tom. “Quiet,” He murmurs against André’s lips as he grabs hold of the Belgian’s free wrist and leads him to his bed. André  smirks as he presses the younger man into the bedsheets, his thumb stroking over the pale wrist.    
  
“I’ll look after you, I promise,” André mutters as he leans down to brush a kiss against Loïc’s lips. Loïc accepts the kiss, his hands moving to cup at André’s cheek and the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, their bodies pressing together.    
  
“Fuck me,” Loïc mutters, glancing up at the Belgian between thick eyelashes.    
  
And André can’t deny Loïc that. He slowly kisses down over Loïc’s neck, brushing over the barely-there stubble, smiling against the pale skin as Loïc’s back arches away from the bed, as he gives into the pleasure engulfing him. André is slow and steady in his movements - his fingers curving over the waistband of Loïc’s trousers as he slowly pushes them down from Loïc’s legs. His eyes drink in the pale skin exposed before him, as Loïc looks up at him with trusting eyes.    
  
“Are you sure?” André asks again, his fingers itching to touch the unmarked skin before him. Loïc nods and André’s hands move to map over the soft skin - his lips moving to brush kisses over his chest and down over his abdomen. He pauses at Loïc’s belly button, his tongue moving to dance over the soft nub of skin - Loïc gasps out at the sensation - he’s not used to being played with, André notes as his tongue dips lower and lower. He sucks on the sensitive skin of Loïc’s thighs, drawing moans from the young Frenchman who arches up off the bed as André presses his tongue flat against the skin, the tip of his tongue massaging the skin gently. André nibbles on the skin gently, his other hand slowly tracing circles on Loïc’s hipbone as he dips lower and lower.    
  
“Oh god, André, stop teasing,” Loïc begins, only to stop as André’s tongue moves lower, swiping down past his inner thighs - swirling down towards his asshole. Loïc stiffens at the sensation of André’s tongue against his ass but André rubs his fingers over Loïc’s hipbone as though to calm him down. Loïc fights the urge to scream as André’s tongue slowly dips around his puckered hole, teasing at the soft skin there. “Oh fuck,” Loïc curses in French under his breath, making André snort against his skin, the breath slowly brushing over his ass. He slowly presses Loïc’s legs up into the air - taking in the sight of his ass.    
  
“Shh, try to relax,” André says against his skin, his tongue slowly teasing its way around his hole, inching ever so closer - Loïc tries to, but he thinks about Tom and tenses up. “Shh, relax,” André murmurs, his breath dancing against Loïc. His hand moves from Loïc’s hipbone to slide down towards his cock - his fingers curling over the base. Loïc bites down on his lip as André’s tongue swipes over his hole, before dipping into the hole. His tongue is wet and warm against his ass and he can’t help but groan at the feeling - it feels strange against him, André’s tongue probing his ass. André hums against the skin, his tongue dipping in and out of the puckered hole, pressing soft kisses to it in between. However, as the warmth curves over Loïc’s thighs, his cock slowly beginning to swell from André’s touch, the tongue is replaced by warm lube-covered fingers.    
  
Loïc tries to settle down at the touches - they’re ones he’s familiar with - André is more tender with his fingers, slowly stretching Loïc open, his legs still up in the air, his cock still slick with pre-come. He gasps out as André scissors him, as the fingers press in and out of his slick hole - as André purrs out how good he is, how wonderful he feels. The warmth curls through his lower thighs at André’s fingers. The Belgian slides the tip of his finger over Loïc’s prostate and the Frenchman nearly feels himself come there and then. The warmth thrums through him, almost like water - as André’s fingers stretch him further and further.    
  
“André, fuck,” Loïc mutters as he tries to twist further onto André’s fingers, all thoughts of Tom forgotten as he thinks only of how good it feels and why he’s never tried this before. He barely hears the snick of a bottle as André’s fingers withdraw from him and the warmth seems to dim for a moment.    
  
“André-” Loïc whispers breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to have André’s fingers back inside him. But André slicks up his cock instead and Loïc feels his mouth go dry at the sight of the condom-covered dick, dark veined and slick with semen and lube - but André looks at him one last time, his blue eyes almost hovering as though to ask permission. Loïc nods once and André smiles, gripping onto Loïc’s hipbone with one of his hands. Loïc feels pain at first - it ripples through him as he tenses against the tip of André’s cock pushing inside him.    
  
“Fuck-” He murmurs as André slowly guides himself in, his ass getting used to the feeling of being filled - André tracing circles over his hipbone over and over again as though to reassure him, leaning in and pressing a kiss against whatever skin he can touch from his position. “Just move-” He says to André, who wastes no time in slowly pressing himself into Loïc - building up a soft rhythm. Loïc finds his fingers twisting around the bedsheets as the pain gives way to pleasure, the warmth slowly building up once more.    
  
“André!” It slips from his mouth before he can stop it, his legs parting further as André smiles at the boneless Frenchman underneath him, at how beautiful and debauched he looks - Loïc is red faced, his t-shirt pulled up to reveal his glistening sweat covered muscles - his eyes are closed, his plush lips, swollen from so many kisses, are slightly parted - André never imagined that he’d see Loïc like this. He remembered when he first saw the younger man in the factory with Tom’s iron grip on his shoulder and was instantly interested. But Tom never shared his new toys and this one he seemed to keep close to his chest, instating into the Audi with himself and Allan. It seems worth the chase, André thinks - smiling down at the Frenchman calling out his name. His thrusts get harder and faster at the thought of Loïc calling out his name - Loïc’s ass getting slicker and slicker with lube as André positions his strokes towards his prostate, his lips brushing kisses against the sweaty neck.    
  
“Such a good boy, such a good boy for me,” André murmurs. “Going to make you forget everything,” He continues, kissing the soft, sweaty skin as he thrusts into Loïc again and again, his hand holding onto Loïc’s hipbone as though to steady the Frenchman. He can feel the warmth curling through him, the pre-come seeping into the condom as he thrusts in and out of Loïc, building his momentum. He no longer is concerned about hurting Loïc, not when the younger man is parting his legs, begging André for more - plush lips, beautiful blue-grey eyes, Loïc calling out his name -    
  
He comes inside Loïc with a shout as the younger man soon follows suit, the come splattering against André’s stomach. He smiles at the warmth of the semen sliding down his abdominal muscles as he gazes down at the younger man, still lying on the bed panting with exertion. He looks beautiful like this, with his hair all mussed from André’s playing and his lips still red and swollen from kisses. It was worth it, he reasons, as he pulls out of Loïc and goes through the motions of pulling the condom from his limp dick. Loïc sits up, eyes wide as though he realises what just happened - he frantically combs through his mussed hair and pushes his t-shirt back down.    
  
“Fuck, fuck - I - we - fucked-”   
  
André is silent as he finds his jeans still discarded on the floor and slowly slides them back over his hips. Loïc watches him carefully, as though he’s analysing him. His hand moves down to his neck, where a red mark proudly sits against his skin. “Fuck-”   
  
“Sorry,” André says plainly as he slides his t-shirt back on. His reactions are almost mechanical - but he’s not the kind of stay behind and cuddle guy, he’s used to fucking people and leaving. He usually has to share his lovers with Tom so he never got into the habit of lying back after a sex session and spooning the person next to him - they usually were needed by Tom straight after. He wishes he could tell Loïc that this is natural, that this is what his life will be, but he can’t.    
  
“I’m sorry,” André says again as he toes on his trainers. “I don’t regret a thing though,” He admits.    
  
He doesn’t look at Loïc though. He doesn’t want to see the look in his eyes as he leaves - his hand wavers on the doorknob for a moment before he turns on his heel and leaves Loïc alone in his hotel room, still sweaty, naked and spent from sex, twisted in semen-covered sheets.    
  


* * *

  
  
André lights up a cigarette a few feet from Loïc’s door, his lips slowly pursing around the stick as he tries to push away the thoughts of Loïc twisted in between the sheets. The semen still sticks against his underwear but he doesn’t care in that moment. The smoke from his cigarette curls around him as he exhales slowly, thinking about how good Loïc felt, how he shouted out André’s name. André leans against the wall, pulling his jacket further around himself to keep out the cold evening air - the smoke drifts away from the lit end of the cigarette - it’s a routine he always finds himself in whenever he has sex. He’s not a cuddling type, he never has been and never will be - he leaves and finds himself outside with a cigarette in his mouth.    
  
“André,” A gruff voice greets him and he stiffens at the sight of Tom emerging from the shadows. The older man looks the same as he always did - the only sign of anything outwardly is the slight bruise just visible beneath the Dane’s collar. “What are you doing out here?”   
  
“Just popped out for a smoke, couldn’t sleep thinking about today,” André says, slowly blowing the smoke away from the older man. “Had a lot on my mind,”   
  
“Like Loïc for example,” Tom says quietly.    
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” André says, exhaling lightly. “Loïc is yours,”   
  
Tom laughs, his white teeth seem to shine in the dim light of the hallway. “Yet, you seem to have forgotten that, André,” He says, smiling as his hand moves to fist into André’s shirt, thrusting him into the wall with some force. “I saw you leaving Loïc’s room,”   
  
“I don’t see why it matters,” André says, trying to remain calm as Tom’s fist curls into his shirt, his eyes shining as they fix on the Belgian. “You were fucking Di Grassi anyway,”   
  
“You know that’s nothing to do with you, Lotterer,” Tom snarls, eyes dark with anger. “Did you fuck him?”   
  
André says nothing, his gaze fixed on Tom’s.    
  
“Answer me, Lotterer!” Tom snarls. “Tell me what you did!”   
  
“I slept with him,” André begins, only to be cut off by Tom’s fist. His head snaps back from the force of Tom’s hit and the pain blossoms in his cheekbone, his mouth filling with iron-thick blood. “I- he was upset over seeing you and Lucas together,”   
  
“He is  _ mine _ , André,” Tom hisses under his breath, all traces of playfulness gone from his expression. “You knew this from the beginning,”   
  
“Yet, you lied to him, Tom,” André says, his mouth thick with blood. “You told him that you’d fuck him tonight and he finds you in bed with Di Grassi,”   
  
“Like I said, it’s nothing to do with you,” Tom snarls back, eyes still dark. “He’s new and can be forgiven for making mistakes, he doesn’t know yet who he truly belongs to,” Tom’s hand moves to cup André’s cheek gently. “You’ve disappointed me, André,”   
  
André doesn’t say another word, the blood still pouring from his mouth. “Let me go, Tom,”   
  
“This isn’t over, André,” Tom says, his thumb stroking over André’s bruising cheek.    
  
“Whatever,” André mutters, pushing Tom’s hand away as he turns on his heel, the cigarette is still smoking on the floor as Tom watches the Belgian stalk away, his eyes narrowing at André’s response.    
  


* * *

  
  
“Somebody got a little busy last night,” A voice pipes up from behind Loïc the next morning in the hotel’s breakfast area. He stiffens as Lucas stands behind him, holding a ridiculously healthy looking bowl of muesli with chopped fruit and what seems to be low-fat yogurt.    
  
“I don’t think it’s any of your business, di Grassi,” Loïc snaps, placing some of the fruit on his tray, next to his warm porridge. “I know exactly what happened last night,”   
  
“Seems you have your own stories,” Lucas replies, his dark eyes fixed on the red mark barely visible over the top of Loïc’s collar.    
  
Loïc feels his cheeks burn red at the Brazilian’s words. “It’s none of your concern what I do,”   
  
“Maybe not,” Lucas says, his eyes moving to meet someone else’s across the room. “But it’s his,” He nods at Tom and Loïc feels his mouth go dry at the sight of the older Dane.    
  
Lucas seems to vanish after that, presumably scuttling away to eat his healthy breakfast. Loïc knows he should leave, that he should just dump his breakfast off somewhere and go and hide - but he doesn’t. He sits down in one of the booths and focuses on dumping the fruit into his porridge.    
  
“Loïc,” The voice he anticipated curls through the air as Tom drops into the seat opposite him. “I was hoping to see you this morning,”   
  
Loïc murmurs an apology as he lifts the spoon to his mouth. “Sorry, I ended up going to sleep last night early and must have missed your call-”  
  
He stiffens as Tom’s foot slowly begins to rub over his ankle, as though to tease - his eyes are dark and full of an emotion that Loïc can’t place. “Tom-”   
  
Tom smiles, his hand folding over Loïc’s. “I don’t like it when you lie, Loïc,”   
  
“Tom, I-”   
  
“I know, Loïc. It’s not difficult to work out. Your face is guilty as sin and I can see the mark that he left on your collarbone,”   
  
Loïc’s cheeks flare red as he claps his hand to the mark as though to hide it. “Fuck, I-”   
  
“Fuck indeed,” Tom says, his fingers tracing patterns on Loïc’s wrist. “I give you everything in return for one thing, Loïc. And this is how you repay me?”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Loïc murmurs, his eyes looking down into his porridge. “I just...I overreacted over everything. I shouldn’t have done it and I’m sorry,”   
  
Tom’s foot slides back and forth over Loïc’s ankle slowly. “You shouldn’t have done it. You’ve broke my trust, Loïc,”   
  
“And I said I’m sorry,” Loïc begins, only to bite down on his lip.   
  
“I know,” Tom says, his foot slipping slowly up and down Loïc’s leg. “But you must still be punished,”   
  
Loïc bites down his lip as Tom smiles widely at him, his hand squeezing his wrist gently, before he wordlessly slips away. Loïc watches him go, watches him slap Lucas on the ass as he passes and his heart feels like lead.    


* * *

 

“You summoned me,” André says quietly, eyes downcast as he closes the door behind him. Tom glances up at the Belgian, at his closed-off body language. “I assume it’s important,”   
  
“Of course it’s important,” Tom says slowly, his eyes examining the driver before him. He remembers the small spark of something that he saw in André years ago, how it’s blossomed, how André always tries to push beyond the boundaries of what is expected. “You are here for your punishment,”   
  
André says nothing as he slowly undoes the leather belt that holds up his trousers. Tom tries not to glance at his shapely ass as he does so - the curves of it still cling to his trousers for a moment before his hands move to slowly push them down his legs. Tom marvels at André’s muscular legs, at the plug that André has placed inside himself.    
  
“You’re a good boy, André, but that will not be your punishment today,” Tom says silkily.    
  
André raises an eyebrow in confusion.    
  
“Spanking clearly has no impact anymore,” Tom continues. “Lay on the bed and wait for further instruction,”   
  
André does as he’s told. He knows enough not to cross the line when Tom demands something of him. He lays on the soft sheets and wonders what Tom will do. Soft footsteps approach him and he gasps out as Tom’s muscular body folds on top of his, calloused hands folding underneath André’s tight t-shirt, mapping over every inch of skin and muscle. Tom’s lips slowly brush over his own, his hand moving to gently cup at the Belgian’s face as the other slips beneath André’s t-shirt, rubbing over his nipple, over the piercing that he got when he first joined Audi.    
  
“You know, you’ve disappointed me, André,” Tom says softly against his skin. “I thought I could trust you with Loïc. I told you that I wanted that boy for years,”   
  
“You hurt him,” André says softly. “He likes you more than you know,”   
  
“And that was none of your concern,” Tom continues, his finger slipping against André’s cheek. “I can’t spare one driver’s feelings, you know that isn’t how it works,”   
  
“You’re not going to hurt him are you?” André asks, his blue eyes fixing on Tom’s. “He doesn’t deserve that...I took advantage of him, he was upset about you fucking Lucas before him, he felt unloved,”   
  
“You seem very concerned for him,” Tom notes, his hand still stroking over André’s nipple ring. “A little too concerned...could you finally be falling in love with him?”   
  
André shakes his head, a laugh erupting from his lips. “I don’t do love. I don’t do relationships, I just...I think that you shouldn’t punish him for something I did,”   
  
“I understand that,” Tom says, the smile ghosting over his lips as he leans in and kisses André on the lips. “But it’s none of your concern, you should be worried about yourself right now,” He says, pulling his lips away. Before André can ask him what he means, he feels Tom’s hand dip lower and slowly brush over his neck. Tom smirks before his finger moves into the dip of André’s neck slowly applying pressure.    
  
“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll make sure you never touch my toys without asking again,” Tom says, his hands curving around André’s neck. His fingers slowly push inwards and André tries to gasp for breath, his knees knocking against each other as he fights for a breath.    
  
“You can be such a good boy when you want to be,” Tom continues, the smile still painted on his face as he presses inward on the soft skin of André’s neck. He takes in the sight before him - of the Belgian panting for breath, his chest rattling to and fro as he fights for air. His face reddens with the exertion as Tom eases off his windpipe for a moment and leans in to press kisses against André’s cheek.    
  
“Don’t touch him again, André,” Tom says, almost sweetly - the ‘Mr Le Mans’ smile is out in full force as he tightens the pressure once more - strangely, André feels the warmth dancing over his thighs, feels the familiar sensation of excitement rush through him as Tom’s fingertips bruise his skin, as he fights for another breath - just as blackness is threatening to take over the edges of his vision, the pressure on his neck lessens, replaced by Tom’s lips ghosting over the marks.   
  
“Such a good boy-” Tom repeats once more.    
  
All André can do is nod as he tries to catch his breath back, as he tries to pull air into his lungs once more - he thinks of Loïc and wonders what his punishment will be.   
  


* * *

  
  
He knows he shouldn’t call André, knows that he should try keep his nose clean and try and salvage anything he can with Tom. He groans, pushing his head into his hands - he’s fucked this all up, he thinks, he was stupid to think that Tom would forget every other driver on the programme for him. He’s about to push the button when there’s a knock at the door. Raising an eyebrow, he tosses his phone to one side and goes to answer it. Lucas stands in the doorway, eyes shining as they fix on Loïc.    
  
“What do you want?” Loïc asks, folding his arms.    
  
“Tom asked to see you,” Lucas says - he’s growing a bit of stubble out and strangely, it seems to suit him - “Look, he just asked to see you,”   
  
Loïc doesn’t say anything else as he follows Lucas out of the room - the Brazilian leads him down the hallway, staying relatively quiet. Loïc doesn’t speak to Lucas as he follows the younger man through a locked door. Tom stands on the other side - his arms are folded and his face is neutral. Loïc bites down on his lip at the sight.    
  
“Tom-” He begins but Tom shakes his head.    
  
“You wanted attention, Loïc,” Tom says, the smile slowly creeping onto his face. “All you had to do was ask and I’d have given it to you,”   
  
“I don’t understand-” Loïc begins, only for Tom to move closer to him, the smile still on his face. His hand slowly brushes against Loïc’s cheek, the fingers slide over the slightly-stubbled skin down to the mark still hanging on Loïc’s collarbone.    
  
Loïc says nothing as Tom’s fingers explore the slightly reddish-purple bruise. “What’s this?”   
  
Loïc stays silent, Tom’s hand rubbing over the mark. “You’ll get the attention you’ve been craving, Loïc,” The Dane says, the smile still clinging to his lips. Loïc barely has an opportunity to open his mouth and ask what Tom means by attention when he’s pushed back onto the large king-sized bed by the older Dane. He feels the breath leave his lungs as he feels the warm, soft sheets brushing against him.    
  
“Tom, what-” He begins but it’s not Tom who steps forward and begins to shed himself of his shirt. It’s Lucas. The Brazilian slowly unbuttons his shirt and it slides away from his caramel coloured skin. “I’m not touching you, Di Grassi,”   
  
“You don’t have that choice anymore, Loïc,” Tom says, his smile still painted on his face. “Not since you decided to go against me and allow André to touch you,”   
  
“Tom, I-” Loïc begins, trying not to glance at the sculptured chest of the Brazilian in front of him. “Please, I thought-”   
  
“You thought I would want you afterwards? After what you did?” Tom continues. “Oh no no, you have to prove you’re worthy of me again, Loïc-”   
  
Loïc is about to ask how when Lucas presses in forward, his knees slowly moving to rest at either side of Loïc’s hips as he pushes the Frenchman into the sheets, his hand slipping underneath his t-shirt. Loïc flinches at Lucas’s hand brushing over his taut stomach, the Brazilian’s eyes seeming to darken in the low light of the room. “You’re so beautiful,”   
  
Loïc feels his mouth go dry as Lucas leans in, closing the gap between the pair - his lips are soft and warm against Loïc’s and he feels himself give in to them. His slightly chapped plush lips brush over Lucas’s again and again as the Brazilian’s hands map over Loïc’s lower abdomen, over the lean muscles that sit around his stomach. “Loïc-” Lucas murmurs against his lips, his tongue brushing tantalisingly along the crease. Loïc opens his mouth, still drunk on Lucas’s touch slowly trailing down over his body. His fingers disappear beneath Loïc’s tight pants, brushing underneath his thin cotton underwear. Loïc gasps as Lucas’s fingers curl over the half hard shaft of his cock and Lucas’s tongue invades his mouth - his slightly stubbled face brushing up against Loïc’s soft cheek.    
  
“Lucas-” He murmurs softly as the Brazilian’s fingers slowly start to jerk him off, the pre-come coating his fingers in a sticky sheen. Lucas smirks against his lips, his tongue brushing over Loïc’s as he slowly begins to stroke the Frenchman into hardness. Loïc seems to forget that Tom is watching him, that it’s Lucas Di Grassi that is kissing him. It’s hard to think about anything when the warmth is curling over him, as Luca’s tongue winds into his mouth. Lucas’s hand drops a little lower - cupping his balls and Loïc feels his head fall back against the sheets.    
  
“Does that feel good?” Lucas says, his mouth pulling away from Loïc’s for a moment, his dark brown eyes shine in the dim light.   
  
Loïc is about to reply when Lucas’s fingers slip lower, slowly sliding to swirl over the puckered hole of his ass - Loïc tenses at the feeling as Lucas wastes no time, using the pre-come he’s collected to slowly press the tip of his finger inside Loïc. The Frenchman feels his back arch at the sensation - as Lucas smirks, his lips still shimmering with saliva.    
  
“Loïc-” He murmurs, his fingers pressing in deeper, to stretch out Loïc’s asshole. Loïc feels his fingernails scrape against the soft sheets, his hips lifting up as Lucas’s fingers press deeper and deeper. He’s getting more and more used to the sensation of getting finger-fucked - getting used to the warmth that spreads over his abdomen and the inevitable orgasm that follows. He feels a groan push from his lips as Lucas’s fingers disappear quickly, only for the familiar snick of a bottle to press through the silent air. Loïc feels a scream bubble past his lips as the tip of Lucas’s cock presses inside him - he’s roughly about the same size as André, he notes - Lucas’s lips moving in to kiss the corner of his mouth.   
  
“Oh god-” He moans out as Lucas slips further inside him, his lips still brushing against Loïc’s cheek. Pain bristles up inside Loïc and he finds himself biting down on his lip - it didn’t feel like this with André, he thinks. “It hurts,” He bites out and Lucas’s concerned eyes fall upon his own.    
  
“I am sorry-” Lucas murmurs, his hand cradling Loïc’s cheek. Time seems to stop for a moment as the pain continues to press down in Loïc.    
  
“You need to move,” Tom murmurs out as he shatters the silence. “You have to move through the pain, he’s very tight,” He commands and Lucas nods once. Loïc bites down on his lip, tears in his eyes through the pain. Lucas caresses his cheek softly before he begins to move slowly. Loïc bites down on his lip as Lucas gently brushes his lips against his cheek in an effort to make him feel better, to take his mind off the pain. But it still hurts, even when Lucas moves, Loïc bites down harder on his lip.   
  
“No, please-”   
  
Lucas stops once more, his eyes meeting Tom’s as he slowly shakes his head. “He’s in pain,” He says and slowly begins to pull out, his lips still pressing softly against Loïc’s cheek. Loïc groans in relief as he feels Lucas push out of him. Everything seems a little fuzzy at that moment and he can sense Tom’s anger at Lucas. But Lucas ignores it, his fingers gently brushing over Loïc’s face.    
  
“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, thumb swiping over Loïc’s cheek.    
  
Loïc says nothing else as his head falls back against the bed, his eyes fixed on Lucas.    
  


* * *

  
  
Loïc tries to ignore everything and put his head down and get ready for Le Mans. He trains and pushes himself harder than he ever has before - finds himself going for runs, trying to push the thoughts of the other drivers out of the way. But he can’t ignore Tom forever. He finds himself flying into Rennes a week early to prepare for the gruelling race. Tom is all smiles, all confident persona to the cameras. Loïc catches Lucas leaving his hotel suite a few times with swollen lips and lovebites covering his caramel skin and tries not to be disheartened. He’s not sure what he feels for Tom at the moment - he wanted to make Tom happy, wanted to make him proud. He still does on some level, he thinks.    
  
He throws himself into his training, into spending hours in the gym preparing for the longest twenty four hours of his life. He’s lifting weights when he feels eyes falling upon him. He glances up to see Lucas watching him carefully - the Brazilian is wearing a thin vest, the sweat seeming to glisten upon his caramel coloured skin. Loïc tries to look away from his younger teammate, worried that Tom is somewhere in the background, lingering, waiting for him to screw up.    
  
“What do you want?” Loïc asks, slamming the weights back up onto the holder. He can feel the sweat clinging to his skin, can feel it soaking into his thin gym clothes.    
  
Lucas finds it difficult to pull his eyes away from Loïc’s muscular torso. “I wanted to talk,”   
  
“About what?” Loïc asks, opening his water bottle and taking a swig, light pants still forcing their way from his lungs.    
  
“You know what,” Lucas says, worrying his lip. “I’m sorry about what happened,”   
  
“It wasn’t your fault-” Loïc murmurs, pressing a hand through his sweaty hair. “You were just doing what you were asked,”   
  
“I didn’t really put up much of a fight,” Lucas mutters back, his lip still caught on his teeth. “I...you’re incredibly good looking and-”   
  
Loïc feels the blush rise on his cheeks at Lucas’s words. “Okay,” He says, simply.   
  
“Sorry,” Lucas says, his eyes still fixed on Loïc. “I just. I’m sorry for hurting you, that’s what I wanted to say,”   
  
Loïc feels something twist in his chest at Lucas’s words.    
  
“Thanks,” He murmurs awkwardly.    
  
“You know that I had to go through the same initiation thing as you did,” Lucas says quietly, his own lip caught between his teeth. “Wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through with it,”   
  
“But you wanted the drive,”   
  
“I dreamed of racing since I was a kid, since I was in karts,” Lucas continues, his eyes still fixed on Loïc. “Ever since I slid into my first kart when I was like ten, I knew what I needed to do. And I’ve had to make some sacrifices, we all have-”   
  
“More sacrifices than we can count,” Loïc agrees and the silence stretches out between them for a moment before he lifts his eyes to meet the Brazilian’s. “How was it?”   
  
“What?”    
  
“The sex with Tom,” Loïc says, still biting on his lip.    
  
“He’s the only man I’ve had sex with,” Lucas admits. “I don’t really have anything else to judge it by. I was surprised that he even asked me to have sex with you,”   
  
“Why?” Loïc asks, raising an eyebrow.    
  
“Because you’re  _ his _ ,” Lucas admits. “He sees you as belonging to him, and you having sex with André...he was so pissed off,”   
  
“He was fucking you though,” Loïc cuts in, his voice harsher than he expected.    
  
“He thought I’d fucked other men before, but he knew you were a virgin. He wanted to be the one to take your virginity,”   
  
Loïc doesn’t say anything else. He takes another sip of his bottle, ignoring the silence that presses through the gym. Lucas soon leaves after that, and Loïc watches him go, watches his tight shorts clinging to his ass as he leaves. 

* * *

  
  
Le Mans is a success. Loïc feels the tears bubble up in the corners of his eyes as he watches Tom cross the line, as the garage erupts into euphoria. Allan has been on edge for the last thirty minutes as they both watched Tom’s Audi - their Audi - crawl behind the safety car. But the second the flag is waved the Scot throws himself at Loïc and they both scream themselves hoarse into each other’s ears. The team envelope them, share in their success and for a moment, Lucas throws himself at Loïc whispering about how he’s done it. But Loïc feels numb. He’s done it, on his first try. He’s proven himself to everyone.    
  
Tom steps out of the Audi, clearly exhausted from the effort, but Loïc spots the gleam in his eyes barely visible through his helmet visor. He envelopes Loïc into a hug, yelling out words of congratulations as the pair are joined by Allan patting Tom on the shoulder. The crowd seem to push inwards and Loïc finds himself guided away towards the car by Tom’s warm hands.    
  
“Take it all in,” Tom murmurs, his breath tickling Loïc’s ear.    
  
And Loïc does. Tom’s arm remains curled around his waist, almost protectively for the entire ceremony.    
  


* * *

  
  
Tom’s lips find his own later that night after the cameras are finally away. Tom tastes like alcohol, the bitterness clinging to Loïc’s tongue as he kisses back. Tom groans against his mouth as they kiss, as he pushes Loïc against the wall.    
  
“God, you’re beautiful,” Tom murmurs, his hand fisting into Loïc’s hair.    
  
Loïc responds to his kisses, as Tom’s other hand dips lower, underneath Loïc’s tight jeans, his warm hands closing gently around Loïc’s half swollen cock.    
  
“Tom-” He murmurs out, as Tom’s mouth moves lower to gently press kisses over his neck, his teeth gently worrying at the skin there.    
  
“You’re so beautiful, so sexy,” Tom murmurs against his skin, his hand dipping lower, folding over Loïc’s hardened cock. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long,”   
  
“Do it,” Loïc says thickly, his head falling against the wall as Tom’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of his neck. Tom’s calloused fingers slowly trace over his sticky come-covered shaft, moving down to gently cup his balls. Loïc groans out into the air. “Please, please,”   
  
“I love it when you beg, Loïc,” Tom says, smiling against the skin. “So beautiful when you beg and tease, baby,” He says, worrying the soft skin of Loïc’s neck. The Frenchman groans as Tom’s teeth scrape over his neck - knowing that they will leave a mark, but that was Tom’s intention all along. He wanted to make it clear who Tom belonged to and he did not care who knew it. Tom finally pulls his lips away, his tongue ghosting over the mark that he left behind.  Loïc pulls Tom into another kiss, the champagne still lingering on his tongue as Tom’s hands move away from his dick. Loïc gasps against Tom’s lips as the Dane slowly pushes down his trousers. He’s wasting no time tonight - Loïc notes, as he hears Tom’s own trousers follow suit.    
  
“I’m not even going to finger you,” Tom murmurs thickly. “I want you to take my big, fat cock, like the slut you are, like you did for André,”   
  
“Please,” Loïc finds himself gasping out against Tom’s lips as the Dane pulls himself away for a moment. Loïc hears the snick of a bottle punch through the air and tenses, waiting for the moment. But it doesn’t arrive - Tom’s arms curl around Loïc, turning him around so his cock presses against the wall. Loïc barely has time to voice his opinion as Tom’s breath is warm against his neck. He presses a few soft kisses to the nape of Loïc’s neck as the tip of his cock presses itself inside the Frenchman.    
  
“T-Tom-” Loïc gasps out, his fingers scrambling at the bare air as he struggles to adjust to the sensation of being penetrated. Tom is slow and steady, pressing himself in further, pushing Loïc against the wall. His lips still trace over the back of Loïc’s neck, as Loïc tenses against him.    
  
“Shhh, relax baby,” Tom mutters. “You’re all tight and sweet, you need to relax. I’m going to take care of you,” His free hand moves down to stroke Loïc into hardness, smiling as the Frenchman slowly begins to settle down and become putty in his hands. Loïc whines against the wall as Tom thrusts into him as slowly as he can, his other hand slowly tracing circles over the Frenchman’s muscular torso. “You’re so incredible,” He whispers into Loïc’s skin. “Such a good boy,”   
  
“Please,” Loïc murmurs as the pain suddenly gives way to pleasure and his body seems to relax. Tom’s kisses seem to sear the back of his neck as he thrusts himself in and out of Loïc, slowly building up a rhythm. Loïc thinks back to the evening with André - André was much more gentle and went through more preparation with him, he notes, but none of that matters right now. Tom feels good inside him, his hand still lazily wanking Loïc off. Pleasure thrums through Loïc’s body as he leans back against Tom, the Dane’s hand slowly teases him.    
  
“So beautiful, so sexy,” Tom says, his lips still brushing over the mark that he left just a few moments earlier. “I’ve waited such a long time,”    
  
Loïc feels his eyes close as Tom fucks him against the wall, as his groans spill through the air. Their bodies are tangled together, pleasure building inside Loïc’s abdomen as he comes close - closer to his orgasm. Tom seems to sense it, worrying another mark into his pale skin as his thrusts increase. He pounds at Loïc’s ass, watches the Frenchman fall apart against the wall as his cock grazes over his prostate again and again.    
  
“Oh god, Tom, I’m so close-” Loïc mutters out, his voice muffled by the wall. Tom smirks as his thrusts get faster and faster, the only sounds filling the room are those of skin slapping against skin and Loïc’s moans ghosting against the wall. “Oh god, Tom-” Loïc groans out.   
  
“Going to fuck Lotterer out of you,” Tom growls out, his thrusts hard, his fingertips bruising as he pumps Loïc’s swollen dick, pre-come flooding over his fingers as the Frenchman gives into temptation. “Going to fuck you raw,” He mutters again as Loïc stiffens against him, sticky hot come splashing over Tom’s fingers. He doesn’t stop though as Loïc rides out his orgasm, as his own builds to a point he can’t control. Tom calls out the Frenchman’s name as he fills him with sticky, warm come, as he plugs the Frenchman afterwards.   
  
“Make sure that my come stays in you,” He says with a smile, his lips brushing over Loïc’s neck one final time. 

* * *

  
Loïc lies awake in bed for what seems like hours afterwards. He thinks about Tom, thinks about the fact that he’s a Le Mans winner - that Tom has finally fucked him. His thoughts soon turn to Lucas for some reason he cannot pinpoint. He thinks about the dark brown eyes that had locked with his own. Loïc brushes a hand over his face - he’s so confused. He thought that he would have everything sorted after he and Tom fucked - but he’s coming to the realisation that nothing will ever be resolved. 

  
“What’s wrong?” Tom asks at the side of him - moving closer to the Frenchman. Loïc leans into his hold, pressing a soft kiss against Tom’s ab. “What are you thinking about?”   
  
“This is so much different than I was expecting it to be,” Loïc admits.    
  
“Audi operates the same way as all the other manufacturers in the category,” Tom says, his hand stroking circles into Loïc’s shoulder. “We were the first to do it a few years ago. Such intimacy makes the drivers develop a sense of togetherness. That translates to our success,”   
  
“But you were angry about André and I-” Loïc begins.    
  
Tom smirks. “That was just me being selfish,” He says, stroking over Loïc’s skin. “You’re overthinking things. I’m always like this when I get new toys,”   
  
Loïc raises an eyebrow at Tom’s words.    
  
“Sorry,” Tom continues. “I just really don’t want to share you yet. I was the same with André, Mark is the same with Brendon,”   
  
“Mark Webber?” Loïc asks, surprised.    
  
“Yes, like I said, we are not the only manufacturing team that do this,” Tom mutters, his hair moving to brush through Loïc’s hair. He leans in and presses a kiss against his forehead as there’s a soft knock on the door.    
  
“Come in,” Tom says softly and Loïc stiffens as André enters the room, Lucas following behind. The caramel skin of the Brazilian is littered with marks, with bruises sucked into the soft skin and Loïc feels his heart pulse at the sight. “W-What’s going on?”   
  
“I thought we’d have a bonding session,” Tom says, smirking against Loïc’s hair as Lucas slides into the bed next to Loïc, André enveloping the Brazilian’s other side. “Thought I’d show you new boys what Audi is truly like,” He whispers, his hand sliding underneath the covers towards Loïc’s pyjama pants. Lucas watches with interest, his dark eyes seemingly full of desire as André turns his head slightly and captures his lips.    
  
Loïc finds himself pressed up against Tom, the Dane’s lips brushing over his slightly warm skin. It’s not conventional to say the least, and he’s not sure what is going to happen in the future, but right now he’s happy. He arches into Tom’s touch, the Dane still peppering kisses over his skin.    
  


* * *

  
It seems like a lifetime ago, Loïc thinks as he watches the Audi shining in the pits as Lucas pulls himself out of it and Tom is already on hand, ready to push himself into the car and continue Lucas’s wonderful work. He’s so focused on the screens before him, he doesn’t initially feel the slight touch against his waist as Lucas’s other hand folds around his own, tugging him away from the hustle of the pit lane and of the team.    
  
Immediately, Loïc is enveloped by Lucas’s lips on his own- they’re soft and warm against his own, slightly salty from the drive he’s just undertaken. “Lucas-” Loïc begins, pushing away the Brazilian ever so slightly, the smile still playing on his lips. “What are you doing?”   
  
But Lucas doesn’t answer. He never does. It’s more of their routine now, Loïc thinks, as Lucas falls to his knees before him, eyes dark and lips already slick with saliva. Tom wasn’t lying when he said Lucas had an amazing mouth, but Loïc knew that already. He’s known for a while of Lucas’s talent. But none of that matters at this moment as Lucas’s hand fumble with his racing overalls, as his mouth explores Loïc’s dick, as Loïc bites back a moan, his fist immediately curling in Lucas’s thick dark curls.    
  
The sound of the hybrid engines curls through the evening air as Loïc’s eyes slide shut as he gasps out at Lucas’s mouth teasing, mapping over every inch. His attention is solely on Lucas - as his attention will be on Tom, André and everyone else tonight. The system really does work, he thinks, his back arching against the makeshift tyre wall.    
  
And it’s totally worth it. 


End file.
